


Avenging Angel

by purplesocrates



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse (mild), Murder, Young Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10796337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/pseuds/purplesocrates
Summary: From a wonderful prompt from rin-blackfire asking for Hannibal going on a business trip and witnessing a drunken man hit his child.  Hannibal kills the man, then returns from disposing of the body he finds the meat he had harvested moved and a plate of freshly cooked food, a note in childish scribble saying thank you.  Years later he meets the kid again and its Will.Brilliant idea and I enjoyed writing this,  I may well add to it.





	Avenging Angel

**Author's Note:**

> mind the tags if child abuse and drunken fathers are a trigger. there is also murder but its quick not graphic.

He had gone out to look for his father, starting with his usual haunts, small seedy bars with cheap whiskey and a policy of serving way past what would be deemed acceptable.  The air was hot and close as it always was in New Orleans, Will seemed to be in perpetual need of a breeze, a change in the wind, anything.  It was always the same, too hot, too dark, too crowded yet too alone.  His arm still hurt from last time, he wondered at why he even went looking anymore, he then decided better to meet your fate head on rather than wrestling in a hot bed waiting for inevitable crash before the violence.  If he could pre-empt it he gained some false feeling of control.

A false feeling was better than no feeling at all, he supposed.

Will sighed and turned onto the main drag of Bourbon street, his father rarely frequented such a touristy area, his usual bars had all not seen him so this was Will’s theory.  If he wasn’t here then he had probably gone home and would be waiting for Will belt in hand.  The music, noise and smell of stale and piss and vomit hit him hard.  He choked on the thickness of it.  He started at the first dive bar he could see, people were crowded in, he was still small enough that he could slip through and not be noticed by security.  He couldn’t see his Dad anywhere.

He had been to several bars and was about to give up when he passed the nicest looking hotel on Bourbon street, the one with the open courtyard, tucked away, too pricey for most.  He doubted his father would be their but something made him look, a strange pull that he occasionally got.  The open courtyard was relatively quiet, Will could hear soft piano music playing from the hotel bar.  He made his way, unnoticed by anyone, to the bar and sure enough propped up on one of the stools was his Father drowning himself in whiskey.

Will sighed and steeled himself, walking up to his Father he then placed a soft hand on his arm, “Dad,” he said quietly, his Father turned his head looking at Will as if he had no idea who his son was, “come on lets go.”

His Father’s arm moved much quicker than Will had anticipated considering the look of blank inebriation he had received when he first touched him.  The slap across the face stung and Will stumbled back a few paces, his hand going to his cheek feeling the heat rise across his skin.  He was going to have a black eye from this. He took a deep breath and made his way towards his Father again who still had not said a word but had drained the rest of his glass. “Dad, come on, please.”

His Father fixed him with such a glare that Will couldn’t help moving a few paces back to avoid another hit.  It didn’t come. Just words this time, “waste of space cretin, what the fuck you doin’ here? You can’t tell me what to do why don’t you just fuck off home?”

Will sighed again, “just come home now Dad please.”  Will had noticed the staff and over customers looking at them and it made his already red slapped face even redder, adding humiliation to his shame.

“Yes Sir I think it’s time you left.”  A smooth accented voice had spoken from the other end of the bar.  Will looked around at the young, handsome gentlemen wearing a three piece light linen suit still immaculate despite the heat, a panama hat with a striped band was placed beside him, he was drinking rose wine.

His Father looked at this man who had spoken with nothing but contempt, standing up and looking as if he was going to make a move towards him, Will stood in his path, pushing his hands as far up his Father’s stomach as he could reach.  The man didn’t flinch he just took another sip of wine and watched Will struggle with what could be interpreted as either disinterest or mild annoyance at his peace being disturbed.

“Dad come on just leave it.”  The barman had walked around to the front of the bar now and was standing behind Will’s Father, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sir, you need to take your son out of the bar he is not allowed in here and you are not going to be served anymore.”

His Father snarled at that but decided two against one wasn’t worth it and that he would take all of this out on the small boy when he got home.  He mumbled obscenities under his breath and allowed Will to lead him out of the bar under the watchful gaze of the man in the immaculate suit.

The moment they had managed to stumble to a quieter area his Dad rounded on him and started to hit around the head with wide, drunken swings, Will managed to avoid most of them as his Dad was slow and he was small and quick.  The moment his Father managed to grab his shoulder and hold him Will had nowhere to go, he wasn’t strong enough to escape he squirmed and kicked but nothing. 

Will didn’t see it because he had his head down trying to avoid the blows from his Father’s other hand, but he did hear and feel it.  The sudden crack followed by his release, followed by the soft sound of a crumpled dead weight hitting the floor.  At first all he could see was the shape of his father on the ground, neck broken at a strange angle, then he saw white linen trousers, perfectly pressed.  Will slowly moved his head upwards.  It was him, the man from the bar.  He had seemingly just snapped his Father’s neck like it was nothing.

Will met his eyes for a moment, deep pools of red, and then ran. 

 

The next day Will woke up sure it had been a dream, a nightmare.  He went to his Father’s room and there was nothing, the bed had not been slept in.  Will looked around the house and he was nowhere to be seen.  Standing in the middle of the living room Will smiled.

He wrote the note on a scrap of paper with a broken crayon and ran to the hotel hoping the man hadn’t left.  Will slipped into the bar and hoped the barman from last night would be there, he was drying glasses. 

“Excuse me.”  Will said in his best innocent tone.

“You shouldn’t be in here young man.  Oh wait I remember you?  Eye alright looks sore, do you want some ice?” 

Will had forgotten about the slap and the reminder brought the pain back and his cheek twitched.  “No I’m fine thanks, I just wanted to know if you knew who that man was last night the one at the end of the bar in the suit.  He helped me with Dad last night and I didn’t get a chance to thank him.  Do you know which room he is in?”

The barman eyed Will suspiciously, “I’m not supposed to give out personal information, I can always pass on the message.”

“I would really rather deliver it myself I was just going to pop it under the door.  Please?”  Will batted his eyelashes and used his best boyish, innocent charm and the man smiled.

“Alright, its 43, second floor.”

“Thanks!”  Will said and ran off to the stairs, he climbed them two at a time and ran down the corridor towards the room marked 43.

Once he was outside he hesitated, then knocked.  Nothing.  The maid who was cleaning the room next door appeared, “lost your key boy?”

Will smiled, “yeah Dads still downstairs he wanted me to get something for him.  Can you let me in?”  These words left his mouth before he realised what he was doing.

She smiled kindly and used her master key to open the door, Will thanked her and walked inside hearing the door click behind him he waited to see if the man would appear.  He didn’t, must be out.

Will walked around the room, there was nothing much to give this man away, a few books in with long names he couldn’t understand and some papers.  He opened the closest, clothes hung up perfectly pressed and immaculate.  Then he spotted it tucked away at the back of the cupboard a small cooler, inconspicuous enough but that feeling came back and Will was compelled to open it.  He gently and carefully removed it avoiding shoes laid out in rows, he placed it on the floor and sat down cross legged in front of it he opened it and gasped.

 

\-------

 

Hannibal had returned to his room many hours later, he had spent the evening disposing of the body of the boys violent Father.  He had taken what he wanted from the body, hidden it and the wrapped the meat in his handkerchief, he had then gone back to his room to store the meat, change and retrieve some cash.  He had hired a small boat and made his way out into the swamps, dumping the body wrapped in tarp he had bought at the local fishing yard, he had paid for everything in cash and over the odds to remove any memories of him being there.  The two workers he encountered seemed not surprised by him at all, as if this sort of thing happened with reasonable frequency something Hannibal found endearing and wished he could stay longer.  Perhaps he would be back for a planned hunt next time.

He hadn’t meant to kill the man in fact it had been an inconvenience to spend the rest of his evening and the small hours of the morning cleaning it all up.  He had not liked the way the man had treated his son, the boy was beautiful and had something special behind his eyes.  How his father could not see it he was not sure.  Maybe he could and that’s was what he feared.

Hannibal had eventually made his way back to his hotel room.  He had showered and changed lying down on  the bed in just shorts enjoying the ceiling fan and dozing for a while, he would have to leave in a few hours his business being done he would be back on a plane but after his nocturnal activities he was tired.  It was as he was dozing off that an errant smell found its way to his nose, he must have been too exhausted to notice it earlier.  He stood up and sniffed the air, he followed the scent to the large wardrobe where he had hung his suits and where he had hidden the small cool box. 

He opened the door and saw a small plate with a cooked meat and a scribbled note next to it.

_“To My Avenging Angel, Thank you, W.”_

Hannibal smiled and breathed in deeply.

\--------

 

It was years later, Hannibal had not forgotten, occasionally the child’s eyes would appear in his memory.  He also still had the note, one of the few non-perishable mementos he had kept from a kill.  Jack Crawford had appeared at his office on the recommendation of the lovely Alana Bloom, he had asked Hannibal for his help.  He smiled and was intrigued, thinking if only Jack knew where Miriam Lass was at this exact moment, he had agreed.

Sitting in Jack’s office sipping awful coffee, the boy had appeared.  He wouldn’t make eye contact with Hannibal and hid behind glasses so at first he wasn’t sure.  After he had forced the issue and made Will look at him he knew for certain, those eyes were not something you forget.  Hannibal almost stopped breathing, the boy had grown into a man and he was beautiful.  Hannibal could see the darkness in him burning the edges.  The potential was instant and breath-taking, he knew in that moment he would have this man, he would make this man his own.

Will had not reacted so Hannibal was not sure he recognised him, there seemed to be slight dilation of the pupils but it was gone as soon as Hannibal saw it.  Will had then stormed off and Hannibal was not sure if it was just because he had pushed Will’s buttons or whether it was because he recognised him.  Hannibal had to play this cool, Will worked at the FBI now so if he did recognise him Hannibal could expect police at his door surely.

Instead Will turned up at his office for his appointment.

Hannibal had let him in and closed the door he turned around and Will was staring at him intently, “is it you?”

Hannibal smiled and nodded, he then walked to his desk and opened the drawer removing the note he placed it on the far side edge of his desk so Will could see it.  Will slowly walked over and picked it up, reading it, “you kept it.”

“Of course.”

Will looked at Hannibal as he still held the note in his hand, “I thought I’d dreamt you.  I was never sure if he was really dead, they never found his body.  Part of me assumed what everyone else had that he had just run away.  I would have these dreams, less often as I got older but still regularly, of a man standing there with dark brown eyes, the snap of my father’s neck…”

“It wasn’t a dream.”

“Where did you put his body?”

“The swamp.”

“Fitting.” 

“Are you going to turn me in?”

Will laughed, “no, what would be the point?”

Hannibal smiled, “yes I suppose so.  How did you know that’s what I was going to do with what I had taken?”

Will smiled, “I didn’t know it at the time but now I have a name for it.  My empathy, I just knew.”

“Ahh of course.”  There was a pause as Hannibal studied Will who was still looking at the note, “what happens now?”

Will looked confused as if he had forgotten Hannibal was in the room at all, he walked around to the fire and threw the note on the flames watching it burn all the way to ashes.  “I guess we have a conversation.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
